


To Hell with Practical

by tommygirl



Category: Lost
Genre: Ficlet, Season/Series 01, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-03
Updated: 2013-05-03
Packaged: 2017-12-10 07:37:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/783484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tommygirl/pseuds/tommygirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The other castaways want Sawyer and Jack to get along better, but Jack doesn't think this is what they had in mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Hell with Practical

**Author's Note:**

  * For [foxxcub](https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxxcub/gifts).



Jack wasn't sure how he had gotten to this point - huddled in a corner with the one man on the island who could drive him to murder while sharing what appeared to be left of the airplane mini-bar - but what worried him most was that he didn't seem to mind.

Okay, truth be told, he was actually _enjoying_ himself. Maybe the key to getting along with a guy like Sawyer was to drink heavily and focus on the eyes. His eyes made him seem almost human, like the rest of the broken lot trying to rebuild something on the island. Or maybe it was that both of their defenses were down and it allowed for conversation. It seemed that Sawyer was filled with interesting stories, usually starting with, "When I was working this one girl over..."

Jack would roll his eyes and ask, "Didn't you ever get tired of it?"

He would smirk and respond with a shrug of his shoulders, "Not all of us can save the world, doc. Some of us just live here."

Jack stared up at the evening sky, trying his hardest not to glance in Sawyer's direction. He wondered if Sawyer was attempting to con him in that moment, the way he had unbuttoned his shirt and allowed the wind to flank it or the way he smiled as he closed his eyes or the fact that a bit of water was dripping down his chin. Well, if it was a con, he wasn't sure what Sawyer would get out of it.

So he decided not to think about it any further. He followed Sawyer's lead and shut his eyes, enjoying the moment.

It wasn’t until later in the evening that Jack remembered where he was and who he was with. His mind was murky from all the imbibed alcohol, but Jack was pretty sure that he was being kissed. _Odd thought to have_ , Jack decided as his eyes opened.

Sure enough, Sawyer was leaning over, the two of them practically chest to chest, with his lips engulfing his own. It wasn't much as kisses went - sorta sloppy and fast - but there was a potency behind it that made Jack lose all sensation except on his lips.

The only thing he was sure of was that he didn't want it to stop. God help him, he was probably one in a long line of _the screwed_ , but his hands had a mind of their own. Working from Sawyer’s long hair to the nape of his neck down along his back, relishing in the feel of his muscles, and pulling him closer. In that moment, Jack knew what it must feel like to be falling, to be constantly out of control and not give a fuck about it, because he shut out the logical part of his brain and went with it. Hands groping at body parts and tongues exploring.

Sawyer was the first to pull back. His lips were swollen and his breathing was almost as ragged as Jack’s sounded. Sawyer took a deep breath and stared at Jack. It wasn't a typical Sawyer look and it caused Jack to sit himself up and push away, remembering who he was and that he usually allowed prudence to dictate his life.

Sawyer and what he was doing _with_ Sawyer was most likely asking for trouble...but definitely not practical.

Jack swallowed down his own emotions and questioned, "What the hell are you doing?"

"Me?" Sawyer laughed and added, "I'm pretty sure those were your hands I felt on my derrière, doc."

Jack wasn't sure what to do, so he allowed indignance to overtake what could turn into a very big mistake - or had the mistake already occurred? – and asked, “What was this? Some sort of game?"

"I thought everyone wanted us to bond."

"I should've known better. This was all about making a point? You have--"

Jack stood up and started to gather his stuff. Sawyer laid there, lazily and unbothered, and said, "Were you always this uptight or is it a side effect of your martyr complex on the island?"

"What?"

"You can't save everyone and you definitely can't save me."

"I wasn't trying..." Jack's voice seemed to give out on him. There was no use explaining this because he didn't understand it. There was just something about Sawyer that caused visceral feelings - anger, lust, worry - to fly off of Jack.

Jack tossed his bag over his shoulder and said, “This was a mistake.”

Sawyer shrugged and replied, “If you say so.”

Jack didn’t bother to respond. There was nothing left to say, nothing that made sense anyway. All this time he had prided himself on holding it together so well, to being the dependable type on the island…only to be disproved when provided with a small bottle of vodka and small smile from Sawyer. So he left. Walked off into the jungle and prayed he could figure out his way home.

Of course, it probably would’ve helped if he had paid attention when he was following after Sawyer last night. He had been so furious, so sure that Sawyer was going to screw everything up because that was what he did, that Jack had followed.

Now, Jack wasn't sure where the hell he was. This is what he got for storming off in a huff...and how exactly would he explain this to everyone? They all looked to him for answers, for their survival, and he was off doing...god knows what...with Sawyer.

Maybe if it wasn't Sawyer it wouldn't be so bad. If it was Kate everyone would be satisfied, proven right about their ever-trusty doc and his feelings for the mysterious brunette. But Sawyer? Of all the people on the island, he had to choose Sawyer.

"You're going in the wrong direction."

Jack spun around at the familiar twang of a voice. He wanted to roll his eyes and go back to the animosity that used to exist between them. It seemed impossible now because when Jack looked at him he didn't see the insolent castaway but swollen lips that were slightly chapped from the sun and tasted of mango. He saw the hair that clung to his forehead.

This wasn't supposed to happen to him. Wasn't it bad enough there didn't appear to be anyone coming to rescue them? He wasn’t usually the dramatic sort, but Jack was seriously beginning to consider that maybe God was out to get him.

"Did you suddenly go mute?" Sawyer said.

"What the hell do you want?" Jack asked.

Sawyer chuckled and shook his head. He pointed behind him and said, "The camp is back that way a few miles."

"I knew that."

Sawyer didn't say anything, simply closed the distance between the two of them. He stopped merely centimeters from Jack, so close that Jack was sure Sawyer could hear his heart beating.

"You stormed off in an awful huff. Just when things were getting interesting."

"Well...I...there..." Jack paused and tried to get his wits about him. He was a surgeon. He could put his hands inside a man and not break a sweat, but he was suddenly flummoxed talking to Sawyer.

"And so we're clear: it wasn't a game. I don't partake in anything I won't like."

Jack nodded and watched as Sawyer walked off ahead of him in the right direction. Sawyer stopped a few feet away and asked, "Coming?"

What the hell else was he going to do but follow after him?

**Author's Note:**

> originally this was written as three separate drabbles for foxxcub to cheer her up after a bad day. Because I love nothing more than procrastination and felt like sharing it with y'all, I combined them and added a bit more transition and made it into one ficlet.


End file.
